


The One With The Lousy Method To Help Sleep

by kjstark



Series: The adventures of The Holy Trinity and The Token White Guy [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Disabled Character, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Disability, Disabled Character of Color, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Light Angst, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, OT4, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-OT4, Sparring, thats an actual tag i'm going to keep it lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6795757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjstark/pseuds/kjstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>T’Challa nodded along in agreement as he sat in one of the chairs. Bucky raised a cup at him but T’Challa shook his head. “Actually, I was thinking you could help me with other ways to find sleep,” he told him as Bucky sat, frowning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With The Lousy Method To Help Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> The summary sounds extremely sexual on purpose but this story isn't smut lmao. To continue on my series of not-so-short one shots of MCU's Holy Trinity and their favorite Token White Guy, I bring yet another Mess (tm) of a story. Not canon compliant because I'm still bitter about how absolutely no closure Rhodey and Bucky got at the end.

Almost two entire months had passed since his unplanned, much-needed vacation started in a country he didn’t even know existed when he was young –actually young not cryo-ex-assassin-still-in-his-young-body–young. Wakanda was short of tremendous, amazing, _mesmerizing_. T’Challa had occasionally let him look around from his palace to the outside so he’d see that beautiful view he had from there, Bucky didn’t exactly feel trapped but he was sure there was a plot in a Disney princesses movie in which the princess was held in the castle until a prince came to save her.

The prince form came in one Sam Wilson and James Rhodes by the third week.

Rhodey had come at T’Challa’s offer, something about helping him improve his prototype device for walking. Rhodey had hesitated for a little until T’Challa said that they’d work on it together and the poor ex-colonel’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Who knew Rhodey needed a science actual “bro” of his own.

Sam came because two reasons: them, and Steve. The first one directly connected to Sam’s happy wishes, the second one –while it set him on a task, and no one likes responsibilities during vacations– also met things Sam was comfortable with doing. Not only because he genuinely cares about Steve and would do a lot for him but also because some God of Thunder had come down to Earth and upon finding out what his teammates had done, he went and found both Steve and Tony and had long, rousing conversation about truth, honor, friendship and family values.

Sam certainly didn’t want to witness Thor dragging Steve and Tony’s collective ass, but the rest of the team silently appreciated.

T’Challa as a host was an interesting thing. Backing up to the princesses story, he never did allow Bucky to feel like one. After making sure that there was no way Bucky’d have contact to people who could potentially know about his trigger words, T’Challa let Bucky do more for his well-being. Gave him one of the better psychologist in the continent and even gave him things to do. Bucky had a tiny kitchen in his room in which he was supposed to make his own food, unless rare occasions in which T’Challa asked him to come to dinner at the big table.

The place was always crowded. Bucky had never in his life gone to a palace, obviously, much less lived in it, but for some reason he always pictured them as a big, cold place with dark corners and few people. That’s one of the main reasons he was hesitant of coming over to Wakanda. He didn’t need more loneliness in his life, not after everything he’s gone through to get to place he is now.

But T’Challa’s palace had soon proved him wrong. People we’re always coming in and out, whether politicians or press or just friends and family. Bucky couldn’t walk through the main corridor with waving at least four different people.

What surprised him the most however wasn't the tech, or the nature, or the rich culture, it was T’Challa knocking on his door the night the other guys arrived.

“Are you awake?” he had asked, through the door. Bucky yawned; sleep didn’t catch up to him until 3AM so…

“No, no,” he replied, opening the door to find the King in a white lose shirt and black sweatpants.

“Can I come in?” he asked, raising a lazy eyebrow.

Bucky chuckled, moving to one side. “Dude, it’s your place,” Bucky reminded. T’Challa looked around the room he had given Bucky and saw what Bucky had made of it. The carpets were moved around out of their common place, there was freshly made tea in the small kitchen, one dirty mug in the tiny washer. The door to the bathroom was open and Bucky’s scent was all over the place.

It made T’Challa smile, the fact that he was helping at least one of the two victims of the mess of the past year. He felt like his father was approving from wherever he was. 

Bucky was a character, believed by many to be the most dangerous man in the world, but all T’Challa saw now was wounded animal. In need of care and help and peace.

T’Challa felt connected to him at some points.

“Rhodey and Sam are sleeping in the left wing. I set up two big rooms for them,” he told him. Bucky had his appointment with his doctor by the time they arrived and when he was done they’d gone to bed because of the jet lag.

“Oh, good, I hope I can see Sam tomorrow, then,” he told him. Sam was one of his closest friends, despite all the teasing. He’d been calling Bucky every day since the first week, telling him all kinds of stories about what Steve and the rest of them were doing. Bucky only started sharing some bit of his by the eleventh call.

Rhodes on the other side was still of a grayer area. Apparently he was a big part of Sam’s life now since the teams have slowly started to become one again and Bucky felt a wave of understanding in his stomach when Sam told him once a story about Rhodes’ current struggle to walk.

Being named James and disabled both, Bucky thinks they have a lot in common; they’ve just not gotten a time to sit and talk.

“You alright, there?” T’Challa asked after a while. Bucky was making his way to the kitchen to pour himself the tea he made.

After he swallowed his first sip and sighed, he said: “Yes, I was just thinking about how long the last six months have been.”

T’Challa nodded along in agreement as he sat in one of the chairs. Bucky raised a cup at him but T’Challa shook his head. “Actually, I was thinking you could help me with other ways to find sleep,” he told him as Bucky sat, frowning. “I have this training room downstairs, I haven’t been able to use it since I got here from America. I,” he breathed, “was hoping I could teach you some moves and you could pay me the same back,” he explained, looking at the table.

“You wanna spar?” Bucky asked, his head going back a little.

“Why do you seem surprised?” he asked back and Bucky gave a vague shrug. “I spent an entire week trying to kill you and I couldn’t. Instead, I found you’re actually a fierce warrior,” T’Challa said.

“Well, I’m not Interpol’s Most Wanted for nothing,” Bucky joked and T’Challa gave him an amused frown. “I mean, yeah, sure. Fighting you for fun must be an experience,” he said, dramatically opening his eyes.

“Let’s go then,” T’Challa clapped his hands on his knees before getting up. Bucky blinked twice and downed his cup of tea in one go after.

When he was closing the door, T’Challa ahead of him, there was a sudden sound of something crashing and breaking followed by a strangled groan.

Bucky’s hand closed tightly around the handle of the door and he swallowed. The paranoia gagging him up, he looked at T’Challa for reassurance and the King gave it.

T'Challa drew a single finger to his mouth, motioning for Bucky to keep quiet as he started walking down the corridor in the direction of the sound, the opposite of the one they were going. Bucky knew that he shouldn’t follow because if it was people looking for him then he was just going to make the task easier for them, but he couldn’t let T’Challa go alone so he followed after him and for the first time in the entire night noticed that T’Challa was bare feet.

When they turned around in the end corner and finally caught sight of what had happened Bucky didn’t know if he should’ve laughed or just face-palmed.  T’Challa was shaking his head as he crossed his arms.

In front of them, Sam and Rhodey were helplessly trying to find impossible ways to put together a decorative jar that had broken to pieces. T’Challa cleared his throat and the look they gave him almost made Bucky choke.

“Listen, this is fine, I can pay you,” Sam started explaining, his hands open. “Well, _I_ can’t, but Rhodey can,” he said pointing to Rhodey.

“What? Why me? I didn’t break it!” he refuted.

“What are you two doing up?” T’Challa simply wondered.

“We couldn’t sleep,” Sam said, palming his hands to shake off bits of clay and dust.

“Jet lag?” Bucky talked now.

“Hardly,” Rhodey confessed, looking at Bucky.

They stood in the corridor in a meaningful silence before Bucky broke off. “Well, we have tea and sparring?” he offered. T’Challa turned to him and gave him a small smile.

Sam and Rhodey looked at each other, considering.

“How about warm milk and watching?” Sam said instead.  

T’Challa muttered a “Works just fine” and Bucky and Rhodey shrugged almost in sync.

For the following six days, the four of them followed the same routine, gather in Bucky’s room to have a drink and then watch carefully as T’Challa and Bucky sparred. On the second night, Sam and Rhodey started betting on either of them –Rhodey reluctantly went for Bucky for the sake of the bet, but was extremely pleased when Bucky beat T’Challa in the last bout–. On the fifth night Sam asked to spar too and Bucky happily gave up his spot. T’Challa asked Rhodey if he wanted to go into the ring but he gave them a look and then dropped his eyes to his crossed legs and said “No, thanks” in a low voice.

Bucky sat carefully next to Rhodey. His shoulder brushing against Rhodey’s. “You know, I can rotate the arm 360 degrees,” he shared without prompting. Rhodey turned to him and frowned. T’Challa was kicking Sam’s ass off balance in front of them.

“What?” Rhodey asked.

“Just like a doll,” Bucky shrugged. Rhodey stared him down for a while and Bucky just gave a small smile. Rhodey chuckled and looked down, than at him again.

“For real, you can do that?” he asked again. And Bucky went and did it, just when T’Challa was about to flip Sam off for the first round, but the scene distracted him so Sam had enough time to go and flip T’Challa off instead.

Bucky and Rhodey turned in a flash and saw Sam smiling. “Thanks, man,” Sam told Bucky as T’Challa got up.

“Try to do it without cheating, bird-boy,” T’Challa breathed.

“Oh, I will, kitty cat,” Sam sassed back with a wink. Rhodey wrinkled his nose at the ridiculous nicknames.

After a while of just watching them sparring, Bucky spoke again, “so what about you? Do those do anything cool?” he asked.

Rhodey spread his legs a little bit. “Actually, I just added some air propulsion to the base, here, of the feet,” he showed Bucky the spot. “But it doesn’t have much power so I can just levitate about forty centimeters off the floor,” he explained.

“No way,” Bucky mouthed, a little amazed. His arm gave him superhuman strength but it didn’t make him fucking fly.

Rhodey stood up, huffing a laugh and then turned the propulsion on.

Sam was too distracted watching Rhodey float in front of Bucky to noticed T’Challa kicking the back of his legs and making Sam fall sprawled hard in the floor.

“Ok, that’s it,” Sam groaned from the floor. T’Challa stretched out his hand to him to help him up. “We gotta find better methods to help us sleep,” he told all three of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Group cuddles, that's a nice method to help one sleep, right?


End file.
